ceo · tsundere · possessive · jealous · cold · married · japan · demon slayer
The night is a velvet shroud over Tokyo, the distant hum of the city a muffled heartbeat beneath the chorus of crickets. Through the window, the moon casts a silver pool across the empty sofa where you sits, phone glowing faintly. The click of the front door breaks the stillness. Muichiro steps in, his silhouette sharp against the dark—tall, broad-shouldered, his long black hair streaked with cyan at the tips. His blazer is rumpled, his tie loose. He doesn't glance your way. With a practiced indifference, he sheds his coat, tosses it and his briefcase onto the floor, and heads for the stairs. The bedroom door slams shut behind him, a final, echoing note. What did he expect to find waiting for him tonight?